


An Exceptional Woman

by reinadefuego



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Community: trope_bingo, F/F, Ficlet, Friends to Lovers, Trope Bingo Round 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 16:09:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12561156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reinadefuego/pseuds/reinadefuego
Summary: Irene already knows where they'll be in ten years time, but the journey is far more important than the destination.Written for Trope Bingo Round 9: Friends to Lovers/Friends with Benefits.





	An Exceptional Woman

"I never thought you'd be —" Raven pauses, lost for words, forehead resting against Irene's stomach and lips against her soft skin. Somehow, a miracle has happened, because reality has met her fantasy _and_ exceeded all expectations, "I didn't . . ." 

Irene opens her eyes to look down at Raven. Her entire body is buzzing, tingling with pleasure and it's all because of the uncanny woman between her thighs. Short brown ringlets frame her face, clinging to her still damp skin, while all her focus lingers on her future wife. "So loud?" 

The day they met, she'd only meant to go for a walk and visit someone, but seeing the brightness in Raven's eyes when she jumped that fence and ran right in front of their chaise, well, who wouldn't have slowed down to enquire why a young woman was running through fields in such a hurry? The library would be closed by the time they arrived, so tea and cake was enjoyed by both, and while the sun set Raven couldn't help but stare longingly at her companion. To anyone around them, they looked like a perfect couple: a husband and wife enjoying their evening out. 

Irene Adler, she introduced herself as. Raven said her name was Doyle and left it at that, till Irene said she much preferred her hair when it looked like fire and her skin when it was the colour of precious gems. When the facade broke and both were revealed to the other as inverts and mutants, Raven took Irene home and delivered her to her door. Addresses were exchanged, and soon the first letter arrived inside of a week. 

Raven glances up and meets Irene's gaze, idly running her slender blue fingers down the insides of those pale thighs while she thinks. Raven likes her loudness, her defiant nature, and her love of literature. In the past few months, she's found herself growing ever closer to Irene and without hesitating in doing so. "Exceedingly sapphic." 

Surrendering to Raven's touch, Irene parts her legs further and reaches down to caress those scaled blue cheeks and tender lips that have brought her so much pleasure in the past few months. Not even ancient Greek poetry can suffice to say what words can't, and when Raven has her clawing at the mattress and crying into her pillows with pleasure, Irene realises she finally understands the concept of heaven. 

"I have to leave by Saturday, but I'll be back," Raven murmurs after a while, tugging Irene close and encompassing her with her arms. She hates this feeling of guilt, as if working to survive is a bad thing, but how else is she to keep the house in good condition _and_ put food on their table? If she had a choice, an opportunity to never leave Meryton and still live her life without any concerns for their wellbeing, Raven would. Unfortunately, she doesn't, unless Irene agrees to leave with her. 

Irene reaches down, drawing the sheets up and over them. It's the middle of the day and the sun shines on the red bricks of their house, yet suddenly the room has grown colder. "Please don't." 

"We need the money." 

"I understand, but — if you go, you'll die. The train is going to crash. It doesn't matter if they're warned, the driver has a backup plan and allies in the company."

Raven sits up. She's had a vision again . . . that _would_ explain why Irene nearly walked into the chair last night. "Irenie?"

"Every path leads to the crash, every action has a reaction. This event is inevitable."

"Nothing's inevitable."

"Some things are, like our meeting." _Our child._ God, she wants to tell Raven everything, but if she does, it will only delay things. Her diaries are shelved in their small library and sorted in reverse chronoligical order. It will take a while before she ever reaches that point in her life when Irene can share her visions with Raven, and till then it's safer to not trouble either of them with the truth of the matter. "Do you want some wine?"

"How many people will die?"

"I don't know." She saw the paper, the headline, but the death toll wasn't mentioned. _Tragedy strikes London,_ it reads. Irene has already seen that the worst is yet to come. It will take many years and many more disasters will befall their kind between now and then, but eventually the fire will come and everything will burn.

Raven nods and mutters something about needing a strong drink before climbing out of bed. The brandy is stashed among Irene's undergarments. "Then where do we go from here? What do we do?"

"We could go to Austria," Irene suggests, "I hear it's lovely in the summer months."


End file.
